


Bad Nights

by makkthree



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sleep Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-05 01:10:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14605893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makkthree/pseuds/makkthree
Summary: Nyx is exhuasted.





	Bad Nights

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SparkleMoose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SparkleMoose/gifts).



> i wrote this for sparklemoose at like 4 am because neither of us could sleep and that's relatable. i haven't edited this whoops.

It had been a bad night. He had gotten back late from a mission, walking into a dark and empty apartment, not bothering to turn on any lights before falling into his bed, exhausted, but as soon as he closed his eyes scenes of past failures, flashes of fire and blood and death, played vividly in his mind. He couldn't sleep.

Nyx was exhausted, but there was nothing for it. In the past, whenever his thoughts ran away from him like this, the only real way to calm down and get it all to pass was to work himself until he couldn't spare the energy for bad thoughts. More recently, he'd found better ways to get it all out of his head, better ways to let himself rest without worrying about the many and varied ways he'd failed those he was responsible for, but his lover was out of the city on a mission, just like he had been, and wasn't due back for a couple of days at least.

He had run all the way from his apartment to the Citadel, and when that wasn't enough, made his way to the training yard, practicing maneuvers with his kukris. Nyx would have preferred if he had a sparring partner to grapple with, but, accepting he only could make the most of what he had, he set to work.

That was four hours ago. False dawn was painting the sky a dusty blue. Nyx was panting, sweat dripping down his face and getting in his eyes, obscuring his sight with a stinging pain that disguised any other reasons his eyes might be blurred. Four hours of nonstop drills was enough to push the limits of reasonability on a good day, let alone immediately after returning from a weeklong mission in the middle of the night, and by all rights he should probably stop before he collapsed or hurt himself (more than he already has, at any rate, and he steadfastly ignored the shocks on sensation shooting up his leg in protest of him putting weight on his bad knee) but he was finally edged into that state of perfect concentration where nothing existed except for him and his objective, his mind a quiet hum of focus with no room for the chaos haunting his dreams and waking moments alike. He kept going.

At least, he would have kept going, but his knee chose then to collapse under him, finally giving out after sending him warning signals for a couple hours now. He had enough time to think _ah shit_ and dismiss his weapons so at least he wouldn't land on the blades, before a strong, familiar arm snagged him around the chest.

“I was looking for you. Crowe said you arrived home with her, but you weren't at home and you weren't in Medical.” The gruff voice of Nyx’s lover, tinged with fatigue and concern, registered at the same time as the interruption of his fall, and Nyx looked up at-

“Cor? I thought you were on a mission?”

“I got back early. What are you doing training at this hour?”

“I couldn't sleep, and hey, gotta keep in top shape so I don't make it _too_ easy for you in our spars.” Nyx grinned as he replied to Cor, waggling his eyebrows in emphasis of the last word, but his flirtation was dampened by the wince on his face as he tried to bear weight on his knee. “Shit.”

Cor’s stern expression didn't overtly change, but his demeanor softened in small ways, the lines of his eyes slanting ever-so-slightly, taking on an understanding tilt as he adjusted his grip on the younger Glaive, lifting one of Nyx's arms to wrap around his shoulders as Cor supported most of Nyx's weight. It took all Nyx had not to melt into the embrace, such as it was, then and there.

“I understand, but you need to stop doing this to yourself. Training to take your mind off it is all well and good until you lose concentration and hurt yourself. Like you did.” Cor made direct eye contact with Nyx, seemingly searching for a sign of understanding, and Nyx had to stifle a laugh, wondering what others in the Citadel would think if they knew Cor could be such a mother hen. He decided the temptation to fall into hysterical chuckles was the exhaustion speaking, and it would be better not to voice this thought, nodding at Cor to show he was following. “Alright, I can see now isn't the time to lecture you about being careful with your knee, so the question is Medical or home?”

“I'll be fine just getting off it for a while. I can make the walk home.” His reassuring smile fell flat, but mostly due to exhaustion. Rest was definitely the best choice right now, and it seemed like Cor understood that.

“Let's go then. You have the day off to recover from your mission, and while I haven't reported yet, it's nothing that can't wait until tomorrow, this evening at worst. I'll call Clarus and let him know not to expect me in.”

It took some finagling, but the two of them managed the short walk from the Citadel's training grounds to their shared apartment, Cor unlocking the door and leading Nyx to the bedroom. Nyx blinked - awareness of what they were doing seeming to fall just outside his perception in stretches and spurts of time - and he was on the bed, Cor walking towards the bathroom. Before he could work up the energy or understanding to protest the absence, Nyx blinked again, and Cor was handing him something. He blinked, and Cor was convincing him to swallow down a cool mouthful of liquid. “This will help with the swelling and pain.” Nyx blinked, and Cor was climbing into bed behind him, holding him close. He blinked, time growing fuzzier and thoughts growing harder to grasp.

“Hey Cor?”  
“Mm?”  
“Welcome home.”  
“You too. Sleep well.”

Nyx’s eyes drifted shut again, and this time it didn't seem worth the struggle to keep them open. He was exhausted, and as he drifted to sleep, his mind was quiet save for the knowledge that he was comfortable and safe. His last thought before he fell into a rest untroubled by dreams, was that it was looking like today would be a good day.


End file.
